My Zavier is 10 months old today. I never know whether to say 'he is or was or should've been'. Juls gets upset when I say was. Do we age in Heaven?
I should be toting around a happy, smiling 10 month old baby boy. I should be watching him crawl around and trying to stand up. I should be hearing him laugh, watching him play. But, I'm not.
Instead...I go to the cemetary religiously, almost. I take flowers and toys. I try to convince myself that I'm alright. But, I can't bring myself to put his things away, to close the door to his room, to not turn on his nightlight, to wash the clothes in his hamper.
What if I stay broken?
Not a day goes by that I don't miss my Zavi.
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"He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds." Psalm 147:3
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